


Of All the Things that Need Saying

by TheDoctorAndRiversArmyOfPeppers



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Dining at the Ritz (Good Omens), Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:01:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27825691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDoctorAndRiversArmyOfPeppers/pseuds/TheDoctorAndRiversArmyOfPeppers
Summary: The air was crackling with tension emanating from the Demon, the words he wanted to say barely restrained behind his badly-formed barriers. He was so close to saying it.Aziraphale waited, spooning his dessert into his mouth more quietly than usual so as not to miss it when it happened.Aziraphale waited some more.After a couple more bites, Crowley finally opened his mouth to speak and Aziraphale had to repress a gasp of anticipation.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28





	Of All the Things that Need Saying

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas!

The day after Armageddon ended nothing like it began. It had none of the ominous foreboding of the oncoming trials and all of the relief of escaping from beneath the shadow.

Aziraphale and Crowley had been sat in the Ritz for hours, talking and eating together until they forgot what time it was. Lunch turned into dinner, turned into some new mealtime Crowley firmly believed the Angel had just invented so they wouldn't have to leave so soon.

It was a strange feeling, knowing now that they needn't worry about being together in one place for too long. Both their sides knew about them now and there was no-one left to hide from.

As he ate, Aziraphale noticed his friend staring at him more intently than usual. He could feel the need to say something rolling off him in waves, but the Demon didn't seem to be doing anything about it.

Aziraphale understood. He knew exactly what his friend wanted to say. He had known how Crowley felt about him for millennia now, and he'd know that look on his face anywhere.

The pure adoration couldn't be hidden by his friend's sunglasses. It was written through him like a stick of rock, and his expression displayed it better than any declaration ever could.

The air was crackling with tension emanating from the Demon, the words he wanted to say barely restrained behind his badly-formed barriers. He was so close to saying it.

Aziraphale waited, spooning his dessert into his mouth more quietly than usual so as not to miss it when it happened.

Aziraphale waited some more.

After a couple more bites, Crowley finally opened his mouth to speak and the Angel had to repress a gasp of anticipation.

"Is that chocolate cake alright?" asked Crowley, voice a few octaves higher than usual.

"Absolutely scrumptious." Aziraphale tried not to show his disappointment. "Why do you ask?"

Crowley made some noises of a kind that could only be made by Crowley. "It's just you don't seem to be enjoying it as much as usual." He shrugged to look casual, but it did nothing to disguise the blush reigning supreme across his cheeks.

Aziraphale smiled despite himself. It amused him to think that, after all this time, Crowley still believed he hadn't noticed how he watched him eat with his full attention.

But Crowley was looking at him with concern now, and Aziraphale hated it.

"Not at all, I'm enjoying it immensely," Aziraphale assured him. "There's just a lot on my mind, that's all. It's been a busy few days."

Crowley nodded, and the Angel turned his attention back to his cake. And judging by the look that was now on Crowley's face, the mood had been changed somewhat. He wasn't going to hear those words today.

_'Maybe next time,'_ Aziraphale thought.

* * *

A few weeks later, Crowley took Aziraphale to see a play. It was one of Shakespeare's, a funny one this time.

They sat in their seats in the upper circle and Crowley revealed he had smuggled them in a bottle of wine. He pulled it from his pocket with a flourish and handed it to the delighted Aziraphale, who opened it with a miracle.

They were halfway through the first act when the ethereal being noticed the occult one watching him yet again. It was with the same intent as every other time recently, but with just as little gumption to actually say anything about it.

Aziraphale didn't know what to do to enable Crowley to get it off his chest. He obviously needed a helping hand to that end.

Perhaps what he needed was a little prompting.

He turned to face the Demon, who looked surprised to suddenly have his friend's full attention on him.

"Are you alright, my dear?" the Angel asked him.

Crowley's eyes widened at the endearment, and Aziraphale could've sworn he'd stopped breathing, too.

The demonic entity pulled himself together and coughed to clear his throat.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he finally replied, slouching further into his chair to feign indifference. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You just seemed like you had something on your mind. Is there something you'd like to say?"

Crowley blushed bright red and quickly averted his attention to his fingernails. "No, no. Not really."

Aziraphale was never going to believe that terrible performance, but he let it drop. Crowley would tell him when he was ready and they had plenty of time to wait.

After all, patience was a virtue Aziraphale had in spades.

* * *

Aziraphale kicked the few customers he had out of the shop and closed up as soon as he saw Crowley's Bentley pulling into its usual parking spot. 

Moments later, the Demon himself burst through the doors carelessly. He was holding a takeaway bag from the little bakery just down the road from his flat.

"Hello, angel," Crowley beamed, handing him the bag.

"Hello, dear," Aziraphale smiled as he took it and peaked inside. "Ahh, cream buns! Wonderful, thank you."

Crowley hissed at the gratitude and the Angel chuckled.

"So, what do you fancy doing today?" the Demon asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and back again.

"I thought maybe a picnic in St James' Park."

Of course, the trouble with going in the Autumn is it's starting to get cold and the flowers are nowhere near at their best. Crowley was working himself up by shouting at the hibernating plants that he considered to be failing, and Aziraphale was beginning to think this might've been a mistake. It was hardly the romantic stroll he'd envisaged.

They found themselves a little flower bed to set up the picnic in. It was enclosed by evergreen trees and bushes making the place feel quite secluded. Crowley eyed the wilting flowers surrounding them with disdain, trying to not let the Angel see.

Aziraphale sat on the blanket, smiling to himself about how he was going to change all that.

"Is this allowed?" frowned the Demon, gesturing around him to draw Aziraphale's attention to the fact that they were actually _in_ a flower bed.

"You're concerned about that?"

Crowley pronounced a few meaningless sounds. "Nah, not really."

He finished setting out the food and sat down opposite his angel, pretending the cold and the lack of decent plants weren't getting to him.

"Are you alright, Angel? Breaking the rules, 's not like you," Crowley said.

"I'm perfectly alright, my dear," Aziraphale smiled. "And I've not finished yet."

Aziraphale snapped his fingers, and suddenly the air grew ten degrees warmer and the flowers found themselves blooming resplendently amongst the Autumn leaves.

Crowley looked around him at the beautiful flowers brightening up every corner and sniffed the sent of them in the air. He couldn't help but notice how much more romantic the picnic felt.

"You didn't have to, angel," he told him.

Aziraphale looked up from where he'd been pouring the wine, eyes twinkling. "I know, my dear, but it does so improve the surroundings."

Crowley couldn't argue with that.

With the scene set, the Angel started on the food. He made sure to savour every bite of everything he ate, putting as much effort into his noises of appreciation as he could without it seeming international. He wanted to give the Demon something to remember.

He risked a glance at Crowley, and was delighted to see that expression back on his face louder than ever. This could be it. He only needed a little nudge, he was sure.

"Do you want to say something, dear?" the Angel asked his Demon.

"Oh, no," Crowley coughed. "You... you carry on eating."

The Demon anxiously turned his face to his own plate and started picking at a cucumber sandwich.

Aziraphale sighed.

* * *

Almost every time they met since Armageddon, Aziraphale noticed Crowley looking at him in that way. And every time he gave him an opening, the Demon denied everything.

Aziraphale could understand his friend's struggles. He didn't want to ruin things either. But he also didn't want to wait too long, they'd wasted enough time due to their respective head offices as it was.

Aziraphale supposed he should let the Demon work out what was going on in his head for himself, that interfering wouldn't help matters. But he had to try something.

Or else it was looking like it would be this way forever.

With a start, Aziraphale realised that _he_ might have to tell Crowley first.

* * *

It was the first of December, and Crowley was at Aziraphale's helping him decorate his Christmas tree, just as he did every year.

Crowley used a miracle to untangle the lights and put them on the tree. He always found both those jobs to be fiddly and had no time for them.

"You're not going to do that with everything, I hope," Aziraphale said.

"Hardly any point in me coming over to help if I did," Crowley replied.

Aziraphale opened a box of new baubles. "I've gone for black and white, this year. I was thinking it would look classy."

"Make a nice change," Crowley mused.

"And what exactly is that supposed to imply?" The Angel raised an eyebrow.

Crowley took his sunglasses off and put them in his jacket pocket.

"Nothing, Angel," he smirked.

Aziraphale raised his eyebrow even further.

They spent a good fifteen minutes arguing about the best arrangement before the Angel had worked up the courage to say what he intended.

"Crowley, there's something I've wanted to tell you for quite some time now. And I know you've been wanting to say it, too," Aziraphale began.

Crowley froze, eyes shooting to where Aziraphale was fiddling, trying to put a black bauble on a particularly stubborn branch. He couldn't possibly mean what he thought he meant, could he?

Aziraphale took a deep breath before he ploughed on. "Well, it's been an awfully long time, hasn't it? And, well, I suppose we're both just too scared of getting it wrong and ruining things... and... well," he paused as his nerves were getting the better of him. "Well, the thing is, I've spent a long time thinking about how I was going to tell you, and everything just seems like such an anticlimax after all these millennia. Anyway, it was getting ridiculous, so in the end I decided just to say it, simply, with no embellishments. So here it goes..." He stopped fiddling with the tree and turned to face Crowley, anxiously twiddling his ring. "I'm in love with you, Crowley. There, I've said it."

Crowley stayed frozen still for half a minute.

"Are you alright, dear?" the Angel panicked. "Please say something?"

An unintelligible sound made its way out of the Demon's throat. He achieved a blink.

"Do you need some brandy? You probably do. Won't be a tick." Aziraphale shuffled off into the back room and returned shortly after with two glasses of his best brandy. He held one glass out to Crowley. "There you go."

Crowley took the offered glass and downed the whole thing in one gulp. He winced as his mistake was made obvious to him.

"Careful, my dear. It's neat," Aziraphale admonished, before taking a sip from his own glass.

The Angel watched his dazed friend frown, open his mouth, and try to say something.

"You... you, errm..." Crowley coughed. "You...?"

He let the Demon carry on like that for a few more seconds before interrupting. He felt a great fondness for him in moments like this.

"Yes, I do," Aziraphale answered the question he never quite got out. "Perhaps I should've brought the whole bottle."

The Demon nodded, and with a quick angelic miracle, the bottle of brandy found itself suddenly on the floor beneath Aziraphale's Christmas tree. Crowley refilled his glass.

"I love you too, you know," Crowley forced out quietly.

By the sound of his voice alone, it was clear Crowley was trying not to cry.

_'At last,'_ thought Aziraphale.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. :)


End file.
